Veggie Food...03/07/2011

Up at 5...where to go? Swan? Power station? Ness Point? Well, the Swan is a great after-work venue and even though the tide was right I decided to give it a rest - shortage of the right lures notwithstanding! Power Station was just too far to bother with and being at the end of the road from work it would seem wrong. Ness Point it was then so I drove to the becah by my house so as not to wake anyone and unloaded. It was bright already, warm already and the sea was lovely.



I headed north, past the harbour entrance and on to Gulliver. sadly the water was pretty murky.



Not only that, even though there was no wind theree was a good couple of foot swell at the wrong angle which was hititng the rocks and rebounding and being low water I couldn't risk getting as close as I needed to be here due to the proximity to random boulders that have shifted from the wall.



So i went in. I decided that a paddle around to Hamilton Dock to look at the fishing boats was in order and got passed by a fishing boat or two.





Then it was down towards Lake Lothing seeing as the girls wouldn't be awake yet and I may as well make bacon and eggs for three. They're so thoughtful here...



I stopped by Asda and watched the mullet cruise past then headed back to sea again.



Back home it was breakfast and then the girls and I went to the pier with the saved heads and guts from my bass - we were after prawns in the drop nets. We managed the grand total of nine but had a giggle anyway. We had nearly as many starfish!

Back for lunch and then off to the beach to meet our friends at 2:30. Jonas had his Kea and I took the Yakboard. The intention was for me to paddle down in the Necky (1.5 mile I guess) with Eloise in Jonas' Kea or perhaps the Yahoo (her Kea being ten miles away). We decided in the end that she'd take the Scupper, she's nearly nine and a good paddler so it would be a bit of a test to see if she's as good as I suspect (I'd have a towline if needed anyway). Then I looked at the tides and noticed they were exactly wrong. Hey Ho! So we'd just play then:





















Great fun was had even in the small waves and Abigail had a couple of surfs in my lap too. The only thing is I had no fresh fish to eat and so the barbecue at our friends consisted of pepper/onion/halloumi skewers, nut cutlets and vege quarterpounders along with some Linda McCartney sausgaes (which tasted 99% like pork sausages. they only differed in being devoid of 1% meat content I gues ;D ). It didn't matter, i've had a great weekend ;D

Four Years On…01/07/2011

Yeah, that’d be about right. The summer of 2007. I can’t find the original reports if there was one but I remember it well. My brother came over for dinner and by now I had a pair of Prowler 15’s. He had five Frenzy’s so was not unused to paddling but he didn’t really go on the sea and hadn’t done any fishing in years really. Anyway, I’d talked him into coming out off Lowestoft for an evening session, tied off my bow and filled to the gunwhales with my legendary home-made spaghetti Bolognese. To cut a long story short it was bumpy, he felt a bit shitty, we caught bugger all and paddled back against the tide. Hmm. My memory is fonder than his ;D





Fast forward…it’s 2011 and I have avoided doing any overtime until the end of Friday…I’ve had a great time out midweek with bass and a seal and I’ve invited him along to finish the week on the water; he’s only gone and agreed hasn’t he! It was only later in the day that he started to remember and started to shit himself ;D Tough. I loaded the P15 on the roofbars as well and set off with three boats through the traffic.

I arrived on the road above the wreck and swore. It was choppy, from the wind, and the water was coloured up. I suspected fishing would be difficult. With time to wait before Carl arrived I got both yaks rigged up and down to the beach. The temptation was, of course, too much so I left one on the beach and went fishing ;D

Nothing.

Nada.

Rien.

It was clear I’d persuaded him to drive all that way for bugger all. I was flinging the last of my trusty Dexter Wedges out at all angles over the wreck – by the semi-exposed boiler, by the tallest piling, by some of the shorter ones, between those places…not a touch. I chucked it right down towards the end piling and let it sink. Reeled it in a bit and then bam! Fish on. Not huge and struggling against the tide but still giving a good account of itself a 38cm bass came aboard. That was tea sorted at least, though I’d need a decent amount of chips for two ;D I carried on, a bit more heart in it now, but it’d gone dead. No sign of Carl yet either.

Ten minutes later and in the same spot Bam! This one was bigger. This one was staying down. It was heavy, it was against the tide, it was strong and it was pulling, nodding and running; diving too and it took line. I got my net out for the first time this year ;D

Up it came finally and was into the net without even a proper view of it…a beauty. 51cm, 3lb. Good, chips are too bloody greasy, I could do this with salad instead ;D Then I saw someone approach the Prowler and start digging round – then wave. He’d arrived so I unclipped and paddled in. He’d seen it from afar and the landlubber’s term of ‘****ing hell mark’ followed as he dived into the set of Sidewinders I’d left for him to use.

I launched him and then followed. I clipped him off to a buoy on the inshore side and we started banging lures out towards the wreck while shouting across the water to each other in conversation ;D He seemed to be quite happy and was soon into the swing of things.



When I say into the swing of things I mean into the swing of things.



36cm bang on, his first bass, first yak fish and first yak caught meal. That meant we could have a fish apiece and I could keep the biggie for a family meal. Perfect result. My Dexter had lost its mojo now and that fell to a white with orange stripes Williamson lure, a tuna lure. I knew it’d have its day but I’d yet to take a fish on it – colour and shape were ‘right’. I’d put that on for him as he’d need the weight to cast and sink in that wind and tide run with the rod I had available…and now I knew it worked.

http://www.williamsonlures.com/products/lipless_lures.php

Then the wreck ate it.

It ate my last two shads too, both of us leaving one in the structure.

I gave him my rod with my last Dexter and went for a troll but the current was too fast to troll downtide and uptide wasn’t worth the effort so we headed in for a nice, dry landing.



They didn’t half roast up a treat.



(Slashed, drizzled with olive oil, salt and pepper laid on a bed of olive oil, parsley, red chilli, red pepper, thyme and lemon juice. 220 degrees for around 20 minutes, the base being roasted for ten minutes prior).

As for my brother, well, he loved it. He loved the fishing, loved the fish, loved the whole evening. Some of you will probably meet him soon.

Sealed with a kiss…29.06.2011

Yesterday. That was the plan. After work. I’ve been patient. I’ve done lots of hours, lots of days, driving, carrying, demos…it was 12 days since I’d been fishing, 17 since I’d last chased down some food from the sea…I had to go, I was going mad. A caged lion, that’s me without my time on the water. A sweltering day it was, absolutely gorgeous, too hot in fact for unloading containers…four more hours, three more hours, two more hours, one more hour…

BANG! Thor brought his hammer down on the clouds and it pissed down. Thunder, lightning, rain. It stopped…I knocked off and headed to my mark anyway. It started to spit again, then I heard the thunder and drove home. Five minutes after it started in Lowestoft an inch was running down the road. I’d made the right choice. As an idea of how strong it was, how loud, there was a fire in a bedsit a hundred yards down my road just after 8pm and we heard nothing. Oh well, tomorrow maybe?

Sweltering again and though it looked iffy at one point things held together and so I left off and headed off to Gorleston and my parking space on the cliffs above the White Swan.

The sea looked good, flat with a slight rolling swell, the sky looked pleasant and the wind was within limits but there was a dark brown shit-stain right over the wreck. Bugger.



Lures might not be too effective tonight. As it was the tides were wrong, it was on the flood, a couple of hours in already, about opposite to what I wanted. But I was going fishing so tough.

Scupper. Trolley. Paddle. Rod. Lures: Check. Boots, sidewinders, cag, PFD: Check. Five minutes after pulling up and I’m on my way. C-Tug broken down and in the hatch and I’m paddling out. No faff, just straight in and no messing.



A brief troll to start, recceing the extent of the swirling brown water. Yep, it was pretty dire. Trolling was going to be a waste of time too, seeing as how I had a seal blowing through its nostrils a couple of metres off my stern for a few minutes ;D I was pleased, I’ve never had one come so close before and there must have been fish about. I went and clipped onto a marker buoy.

I flicked a shad for ten minutes without a sniff so changed to a Dexter. Pow! Straight in and along came a 41cm bass. Perfect size for Flo and I. On the head and in the hatch. I carried on flicking across the wreck, attaching more and more wedges and shads to the superstructure – she was hungry tonight. It took another hour of constant casting before I again had a take and after the best fight I’ve had yet a 51cm bass joined its younger sibling in the hold. Family-sized, this one.

Another age passed and then, finally, another take and a 34cm bass came in. I was happy to have persuaded him to take and with a quick measure for curiosity – I could see it was too small – back it went for another day, flicking its tail and shooting away strongly.





That was it. But what a pleasant evening. There I was, clipped up, legs over the side with just a gentle rolling swell. It was great as it was but along came my new buddy…





Bolder and bolder, it came closer.





Staying up then flipping over and diving



It was great! Really making my evening special. I was giggling, turning around to try and spot it. It would pop up next to me on either side, or down the way a bit, or behind me or I’d hear it snuffling in front of my bow, playing hide and seek with me! Brilliant fun. Then the cheeky bugger glided up from below and nudged my foot, over the side, and I jumped ;D I was laughing my head off now, such great fun and then it nuzzled the other foot, more gently this time. It doesn’t really get better than that – unless it stays still long enough for a good photo:


That last nuzzle was it and off it went. I hung around a bit and then headed in myself. Here’s the 50cm:



I hit the beach, trolleyed up and headed for my van, being greeted by a nice fella who asked if I was Pinkfoot ;D Now I know I’m handsome but I’m not that good at fishing! We had a chat and were then joined by a friend of his, an RNLI crewmember who pulled up and asked if I wanted a coffee from his campervan – nice one! I didn’t as I had to get home but the offer was appreciated and I forced him to see my VHF, Flares, Solas tape, PFD light…well, no point having the stuff if you can’t show the officials once in a blue moon!

I headed home, said goodnight to my wife, made something to eat and then dealt with my catch. The larger of the two fish had a couple of crabs inside and I was amazed at the size of the larger one. The smaller coughed up a mostly-digested fish.



Brilliant evening, one of those really special ones. Not only that, the rain held off until I got in the van and drove off.

Suffolk Skive…16.06.2011

16th June. That’s a day to take off work if ever there is one. Like my birthday I really ought to not go in and as usual I didn’t. I booked a day’s holiday (having done 39 hours and 1500 miles in the 3 days prior) and arranged to meet up with Tim and Amos in Beccles like last year for a troll up to the Lock Inn and back via haddock and chips with local real ale. 9am and after a wander around Beccles, my old stomping ground, I started to get unloaded at the quay.

The water was brown, the sun was out and an angler I know had had one fish in 4 hours. Hmm. Off we went.

I had out a blue J13 and a redhead J13, hand painted restoration job. That was my secret weapon and I had high hopes for it. I didn’t get much by the time I got to a hotspot so started to flick a popper out. Nearly had a swan but not quite. We carried on and through the good spots and we both blanked.

Quarter of the way, nothing. Half way, nothing. Three quarters, nothing. We got to the Locks, nothing.

We went into the Locks and they were out of Gone Fishing!!! Disaster! I ordered two pints of Trawlerboys instead and we sat and waited for Amos.

My old muse Rae phoned. I met here for the first time twenty years ago in August. We had a chat, on speaker and I told Tim about how wonderful her tits were and how gorgeous she looked. She laughed. Steve phoned, we told him how rubbish it was. Then Amos arrived and he heard us tell Amos to piss off back to London as he’d caught and we hadn’t ;D

Still, it was good to see the cocky bastard and we ordered food – I had the haddock, always huge and good here and to be honest I thought it was my only blank-saver ;D they both chose the cassoulet. Then it started to get cool and we went inside. Then we ordered some more beer. Then it rained and we stayed inside.

I didn’t troll very straight on the three miles back. Perhaps the extra ground covered helped me when the fish hit my lure and I felt the rod bucking in the holder. I reached around and grabbed my rod and yes, she was hooked! I tightened up and battled this double figure (ounces) to the side and held her out as far as I could for a photo. I’d not blanked, anyway. I figure it was more than likely trying to shag my blue Rapala Jointed Shad as it was pretty similar in size ;D

We carried on. It was still crap and the usual good stretches failed to give anything and as we approached the home straight I started to wind down. Chatting to Amos, we passed under the bridge and seconds later he was in! And what a fish, a cracking perch that made up for most of our disappointment! I'd say a pound and a half but I’m not really sure. It was good anyway. Tim got a pic or two I think and between Amos’ phone and mine (my battery died before my first pic on the usual camera) we hedged our bets.

We went in. Great banter and fun to be out and the fishing will pick up sooner or later.

Wrecking with Muppets. 11.06.2011

It was all planned meticulouslyish. Neap tides running no more than 1.5 knots offshore, winds of 4-6mph gusting to 8mph in an offshore, flattening westerly. Swell measured in inches and the last of the tide in our favour. Oh, and nice weather too. That’s why Tim and I decided to head offshore for some wrecking. 2.5 miles offshore to be precise. We figured on a five mile paddle each way down to the wrecks off Kessingland – we had the choice of the Axminster, Christopher, Secret, Yucca, Nominoe, Astrologer, Alto and Tunisiana. Axminster was my first option. 246ft x 34ft, lying in a 20m hole and standing 4m proud (maximum) it struck a mine laid by the German Submarine UC4 on 13th November 1917. Tim was getting over around 9 and I set my alarm for 5…he turned up a couple of hours later after everything went wrong and with both of us knackered we didn’t even have a whisky. It was bed time.

5am the alarm went. I wandered down, bleary eyed, put on the kettle and noticed it was pissing down. Wind I do. Waves I do. Snow I do. Rain I don’t do. I switched the kettle off and told Tim not to wake up, bastard that I am, and went back to bed for half an hour. I got up again at 06:30 and the rain had stopped. Coffee washed down some hot cross buns because I couldn’t be arsed to hurry and we’d missed the tide anyway. We planned another pair of wrecks close together but more or less straight out from the beach, again at 2.5 miles or so. Summerfield and Alacrity…both struck mines laid by UC5 the day after they’d been set and sank close to each other. Alacrity went down on 3rd January 1916 and measured 225ft x 32ft, Summerfield on 13th August 1915, slightly smaller at 188ft x 29ft. They lie in around 16 metres.

So there we have it. We trolleyed down to the beach after waking my wife up unloading…





It was still a bit moist but the sea was calm. The tide would be running a bit by now but the prediction didn’t seem a problem and we decided to cut across it and slightly against so that we could drop anchor and drift down over it. I wasn’t going to repeat the experience of my last attempt on the Tunisiana so had my new Richi Reel loaded with 400m of warp. Off we went…as you can see I was carrying my usual minor amount of kit.



It was a definite south south westerly. This wasn’t as forecast and it was over 10mph, again against the forecast. The tide, also, was about double the forecast…it was okay heading out straight for the channel and fun over the banks but coming close to the Stanford Buoy the tide was starting to show its strength. We had to get some pics though:








We still had a mile to go. It looked like a charter, which we’d watched launch, was now on our mark but it turned out they weren’t, being still half a mile short. As we passed them we saw something I’ve never seen off Lowestoft. Clear Blue Water. Bollocks to the wrecks, another half an hour paddle at least with this current, this was too good an opportunity to miss especially with fish all over the screen and we both dropped anchor. It was screaming through! I tried feathers weighted by a twin tail leadhead briefly while waiting for the yak to settle but settle it didn’t so I baited one rod with bluey and flung it over the side. It was bouncing off the bottom and my anchor hadn’t exactly caught yet…Tim’s had though and, swinging like a pendulum he called me up to ask if I was aware I was drifting. Oh yes, I was aware. I knew my cable tie had snapped when I snagged something on the bottom so had decided to drift for a bit and see if it’d hook up on something. A mile later I called Tim up again (we had radio problems inasmuch as my channels swapping themselves in my pocket ;D ) and said I was going to head inshore and fish off the point near the wind turbine…he was in agreement and had just started winding in his warp – he’d cut the anchor free rather than risk turning in the tide, the pressure was that strong.

We got to the cardinal markers that warn of the outfall and I dropped anchor again. The tide was no weaker here but I snagged up in no time and Tim came alongside and tied up alongside. We settled down to start some fishing. Sadly this was murky water so feathering was out but it bode better for the demersals. We sat there for ages until it weakened enough for the whiting to come on the feed.



By ‘the’ I refer to the lone whiting ;D black lug and squid, 2/0 wishbone.

I sat there another hour and then struck into a welcome starry smut, my best off here but only a couple of pound tops. I’d had a fair few small bites but Tim was getting nothing. We were tied alongside each other and our rods were mere feet apart. Same bait too. It was odd.





As the tide eased towards slack I stopped getting bites. Tim was getting them all the time now – there must have been a small feature that we’d fished in turn as we’d swung around. I would have been pleased with his eel, having never had one from the sea and not having one off the yak for four years.



Cheeky bugger tried to shag my paddle.



We were now on slack and it was close to time for heading home. It was time to play Tetris and troll the rocky sea defences north of the harbour. My anchor was well and truly in the rocks so I cut it off from above (getting to be a habit this) and off I went. Tim brought up the rear and brought up a schoolie on a blue J13 which went back.



I snagged my J13 and the line was cut through by a rock. Tim scooped it up, over reached while passing it to me and insists he was nowhere near to swimming ;D Seeing as I pushed against his rods as he hip flicked I guess I’ll give him that one ;) I followed this with my own bass just over the MLS at 38cm that looked about right for us to have for a shared lunch…an hors d’ouevre compared to what we usually eat to be fair but I had no time to go shopping ;D



It was bloody tasty too. My wife had used some oil from a jar of sundried tomatoes to roast some red peppers and I used this pan. I slashed the flanks, dribbled on some olive oil, ground some sea salt and five taste pepper on the flanks, squeezed a lemon over for good measure and then rolled it in the remaining oil in the pan before setting them onto a handful of fresh bay from the garden. A couple of tomatoes were halved and chucked in along with some left over roast spuds and the whole lot went in the oven to roast while we had a coffee. Asking Tim if he wanted butter on his bread he said he’d just use it to soak the juices up on his plate…that was a stonking idea so we made bruschetta by wiping the pan with it instead…and that was superb! Not bad for a quick preparation, Jamie Oliver could do well with that in his five minute meals ;D



So, 2 schoolies, 1 whiting, 1 smut and 1 eel between two people paddling around nine miles apiece in completely different conditions to those forecast and being unable to carry out plan a or b. As for the muppets…well, we didn’t fish with any. We were they.

Sidenote. An hour later the sea was whipped up into whitecaps and 2-3ft peaks. Again, not predicted, and by evening the wind was strong.

Further Afield: OK Classic 2011, Swanage 28.05.2011

Well here we are again, a year on and I’ve just turned up in Swanage with Andrew. It’s still windy but the sea looks flat and the conditions are similar to those forecast tomorrow, the day of the OK Classic. We’ve had a good run down and I’ve got two coffees and a bacon roll out of him as well as a last check on the threads with the free wifi at the services. Even better, he’s done all the driving and some of his stories I’ve not heard three times before ;D It’s time to get down to business though so we park up and head along the shoreline to the RNLI station ; a further check of the weather and a general chat about the event and then it’s off to see the ladies in the Tourist Information centre and the people in Swanage Angling Centre; it may not get noticed on the day of the event by all and sundry but they all put in extra effort and help towards the success of the day. Thank You!

The last stop is the campsite where Andrew needs to see the owner and wants to say hello to the early arrivals. I see my opportunity and jump ship, a can of Strongbow placed in my hand by Dan who I’ve met for the first time a couple of minutes before. The stage is set and as more people turn up, more fires and barbecues are lit and more alcohol is consumed so the fishermen’s lies grow in direct proportion to the fish spoken of. Somewhere along the line our evening becomes blurry…

It’s 5am. It should have been 6am but I’ve beaten my alarm by an hour so I may as well struggle to stand upright and get some breakfast on; I owe Pugwash bacon and eggs anyway. Mick informs me of the location of water for my coffee and then the infamous cast iron frying pan is heated and fully loaded with protein and we’re away.



I arrive on the green around 630 and Andrew turns up with the van soon after. We unload demo boats and those for the top three competitors, the gazebo goes up, my files are sorted out onto the table ready for the sign-in and the green starts to fill up. Hooky arrives early, the first time we’ve met him and straight away asks who wants tea and who wants coffee – Andrew thanks him then sends him off with some of our own money and he is the first random prize to be earmarked for the day.

Registration complete and it’s into the safety briefing. The RNLI give us the go ahead and Darnsarf covers what needs to be known and done; people are listening because the wind is pretty strong and it’s one of those days that things aren’t going to be a walk in the park. I follow with the general information but it seems to have mostly been covered already so just add in snippets. Then comes the mad scramble to launch; more of an amble really as once again people are here for fun rather than winning.

It doesn’t take long, just half an hour or so, before someone is blown over and takes a swim. This is not a good start but the theory gets put into practice and turns out beautifully; I have channel 6 on in my pocket:

“Danccooke to Safety 1, dancccooke to Safety 1 over”

“Safety 1 to Dancccoke go ahead over”

“Safety 1 I have a capsized kayak in view and he appears to be struggling to re-enter. I am unable to assist at this time, over”

Minutes later and they’re on the scene. Good call Dan, a newbie to boot, have yourself a spot prize: an Ocean Kayak safety navigation light .

It’s time for Richi and I to get kitted up and out on the water. My choice today is the Necky Vector; the first time I’ve used it on the sea. It was a pleasant and easy paddle on fresh water and my wife enjoyed it (telling me it paddled lighter and easier than my Prowler 15 which she usually uses). I found it comfortable and viceless (quite boring for me) as it seemed to do everything pretty well without much effort. This would be a better test as although flat the wind was strong and there was some chop in places. Ideal conditions, in fact, for Viking regalia (pic stolen off Luckyrich).



Off we went and paddled straight out to the first contestants. Mick was already on two species and caught his third to order, pulling in a ballan and a scorpion while I was chatting and snapping.



Then it was off around the bay to take a few more photos.































With last year’s winner in the bag I headed for Amos when another shout went out; Safety 1 was otherwise engaged and with the upturned kayak only 500 yards away Richi and I called in that we were off to assist. Danny Taylor was already onsite and our swimmer was holding onto his kayak while his own was tipped over the wrong side of both wind and anchor line. It was soon righted and while I gathered the flotsam I watched Richi (for the second time in my life) carry out a perfect assisted rescue, hauling him in in seconds as safety 1 arrived on the scene. This was his fifth so I’d have expected it to be good ;D



I slung out a line and gave him a tow into the beach a couple of hundred yards away from where he elected to trolley the kayak back towards the launch point to get warm again. We headed back out again. The Vector was proving an interesting choice. Tracking well because of the channels in the hull it didn’t like to turn easily when broadside to the wind, the shallow hull that makes for such an easy paddle on the flat not giving the purchase of my usual Scupper Pro. Once turned though it was a doddle, cutting through the wind without hesitation, it’s low profile reducing windage.

I paddled around for a bit taking more photos and chatting, ensuring everyone was okay and happy to remain out (we’d already pulled the boundaries in due to strengthening wind) and then headed in as some entrants were already on the beach hoping to cash in on the time element of the competition. Lo and behold there was coffee and a bacon butty on the desk ;D I sat down with the delightful Tinasarf and began to check people in…2’s and 3’s seemed to be the order of the day and in all honesty that was good going for what were pretty snotty conditions. It seemed that almost everything caught was tiny too, as though all the big fish had left the inshore haunts for the calmer, deeper water. It was ballans and corkwings that were making the bulk of the catches at this point with the occasional small Pollack being swung in too. I was fervently praying for a clear winner; the time element being intended only as a tie breaker, not the judge!

Still they came in twos and threes and then Mick strolled up, the faint whiff of squid preceding him ;D Four, maybe five he claimed. I took a look…definitely 4, including tompot blenny and scorpion fish and then a bad picture of another blenny; out came the books ;) I couldn’t be a hundred percent certain but it did look sufficiently different from what I could see. I awarded it as a half ;D

So now we had a winner… for the time being at least. Who else was still to come?

More twos and threes and then up ambles Floydyboy.

‘How did you do?’

‘Abysmal. Four I think…wasn’t going to bother checking in but Darnsarf said I should’

‘Oh well, let’s take a look anyway…’

Yep, there were a definite four. Poker faced, I answered his query as to what the leading count was with a simple ‘you don’t need to concern yourself with that mate’. ;D I’m an evil bugger sometimes! Off he wandered, downcast and looking like a miner at a pit closure when all the sheep have been married off already. At least it kept him from singing ;D

…and that was it. Time to wrap it up and get ready for the prize giving, delayed slightly of course in the best traditions of our rigid enforcement of time constraints…I was on overtime anyway ;)

Everyone gathered around to hear as we started to give out the leaders from fifth upwards. Marshy, hailed as coming to the opening of an envelope, walked back to his place with a new-style C-Tug and I was glad; even in the depths of winter Jim turns up to join the happy throng and always pops by to say hello at shows; he also has a few yaks so this should ease the pressure. Well done that man!

4th place saw Shep, returning for his second OK Classic, joining the Pugwash elite with a 1.5m Pacific Action sail. Nice one – enjoy! Then to the kayak winners:

Also with three, the first one to book in with the average score, was Mark Radcliffe. He hadn’t a clue and the mixture of joy and surprise was great to see, I foresee many Capers ahead ;D Mark had also fished last year.

Well, I still hadn’t said what the winning scores were and with good reason. I had seen no reason to cheer up second place: Floydyboy was in shock when he found out he had to somehow cart a Trident 11 back to Wales! Made all the more gratifying as his pair of the only smuts last year had been eclipsed by only one type of wrasse instead of the longed-for pair. Hey, but that hurt, we’d never hear the end of it, giving him a yak! Well-deserved mind, he’s a good angler and shares his knowledge too and is a large part of the reason we saw such a strong Welsh contingent here on the day.

Now, first prize. It’s always good to give it to someone worthy but we couldn’t give one to everyone who entered and who all deserved something for heading out in those conditions and so we had to send another kayak to Wales! Having first heard about Tridents from his classmate Neptune, Mick Dundee had done it and fortunately his ‘half’ wasn’t the deciding factor. The first in to log a definite four, a fisherman’s fisherman, I was pleased to hand it over to the man who gave me a conspiratorial wink when I arrived at Oxwich last summer and secretly palmed me a bag of cockles that were the secret recipe of success in that bay. Nice effort but they did nothing for me; clearly they work in Swanage though and at least we wouldn’t have to suffer barbecued ragworm back at camp ;D

The winner in action:



Brilliant. A top effort by everyone and so it was time to hand out the rest of the prizes from holding paddles upside down and wearing Viking hats to having big balls (to launch again after a capsize) and being the most foreign though my ‘most romantic looking couple on the water’ prize of thigh straps (the most suggestive prize we had other than rod holders) turned out to be for a father and daughter which raised an additional laugh. It is Dorset I suppose…this all followed by a huge chunk of the stickiest, sugariest, tastiest cake (beautifully supplied by Mrs Gosling) ever to grace the field of human competition. No wonder we’re the slimmest bunch of athletes other than dart players ;D



Well that’s the comp…it was back to the campsite after that after topping up on supplies. My four-packs of Cobra spoilt only by the 0% alcohol content on them; there was plenty of non-Children’s Beer to be had though luckily and even some spare food around when my wife, children and parents pitched up in the ghetto too. Lucky it was the second night else I’d still be grounded ;D Next year a special prize must be held back for Esther, the Boudicca of kayak fishing camps.

So thank you guys and girls, thank you for supporting us, for turning up, for launching and for fishing. Thank you also for all the good humour, good sportsmanship and for keeping an eye out for each other. Thank you for moving in when asked to, thanks for calling for assistance when you needed it and most of all thank you for coming…see you next year! I should also thank the rest of the team of Okreally and David Parker, Richi, Starvinmarvin, Darnsarf and especially Tinasarf for all their efforts, Chris from the Canoe Shop Group for looking after the demos that couldn’t really be run and all the people at Swanage from the RNLI, Tourist office and council who limbo danced the event into being.